


Bette Davis Eyes

by hellcsweetie



Series: The Food Of Love [3]
Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:41:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26705386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellcsweetie/pseuds/hellcsweetie
Summary: Donna and Harvey have a little dance party on a late night at work.
Relationships: Donna Paulsen/Harvey Specter
Series: The Food Of Love [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1756051
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	Bette Davis Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Title and story inspired by Bette Davis Eyes, by Kim Carnes :)

There’s a quiet sort of companionship that grows between them on nights like this. The files strewn everywhere; the rolled up sleeves and discarded heels; the empty containers of takeout food and occasional glasses of whisky they try not to indulge in too much because they’re still working, after all.

The life of a lawyer at a top law firm, especially one who’s dubbed the best closer in New York City, is fast and merciless. Late nights, weekends, no breaks for food or dates or sleep sometimes. Pages upon pages of doc review, motions, legal minutiae that might make lesser men quake in their boots, it’s all part of Harvey’s regular life. 

The same is not strictly required of Donna, they both know that. But they both also know she wouldn’t be Donna if she didn’t stay along, at least on most nights. He’s grown to expect it, which isn’t completely fair but is an accurate reflection of their relationship. She’s attuned to his needs and wishes, and so she knows when it’s okay to leave and when he needs her help. He feels bad about it sometimes, but it’s undeniable that having her there, with her witty quips and sharp eye, improves not only the quality of the work but also the quality of his time.

So on nights when he’s not completely seething about having to stay longer, he only protests once or twice when she offers to stay, pushes back just enough to make it seem like it’s her idea even though they both know it’s not.

Tonight it’s the discovery for the Movix trial happening in two weeks. It’s a crapload of documents and he doesn’t trust this current roster of associates, and he’s always worked better just with Donna anyway. They’re neck-deep in paperwork, any last shred of formality abandoned about two hours ago. They usually work well at night, better than early mornings anyway, but tonight they’re especially tired, trying anything to stay up and alert.

It’s been a tough couple of weeks and she’s been a champ through all of it. He appreciates it - appreciates her and all her support - so sometimes he likes to throw her a bone. Tonight the bone is control of the playlist. He prefers working to jazz or one of his father’s records, but she’d stayed late with him three times in two weeks already and he knows she likes jazz and loves his dad but it’s not her favorite genre.

The spark in her eyes when he told her she could pick the music was so intense you’d think he never lets her choose anything - when they both very well know it’s really her running the show most of the time.

Donna has a very eclectic taste in music, something that confuses Harvey to no end, and amuses him a little bit too. She knows classical music from her piano-playing days, musical theater soundtracks, country music, upbeat tunes and probably a lot more styles he doesn’t care about.

Tonight it’s 80s hits. He doesn’t like many of the songs, but at least he knows most of them. They’ve heard The Police and Madonna and Bonnie Tyler. It’s not the kind of thing he’d listen to for leisure, but it has a nice rhythm to help them stay awake and it’s easy enough to tune out and focus on the documents he’s reading.

Until Donna all but throws the files she’s just finished reviewing on the coffee table and collapses back onto the couch with a huff. She yawns and rubs her eyes tiredly and something tugs at his chest. He’s about to suggest she go home when she perks up suddenly.

“Oh my God, I _love_ this song,” she smiles, and even through her tiredness her eyes widen a little.

It takes him a second to register what she’s saying.

“Oh, come on, _this_?” he rolls his eyes theatrically, though it’s clearly just for show.

“What do you mean, _this_ ? _This_ is a total classic,” she tells him in her know-it-all tone and he doesn’t know how it’s possible but he sees that spark back in her eyes, the one that tells him she’s excited.

It’s almost two in the morning, they’ve been at the firm for sixteen hours, they’re exhausted and Donna is getting riled up by Bette Davis Eyes.

It starts with her bobbing her head to the beat, shutting her eyes and mouthing along to the lyrics. He watches her tired enjoyment for a moment before turning back to his file.

“Hey, hang on, what was that balance sheet we just saw?” he asks distractedly, eyes scanning the page.

“Uh-uh, wait for this song to end,” she replies bossily, though her eyes are still closed and her head is still resting against the back of the couch.

“Donna, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we have work to do.”

“Yes, Harvey, I’ve noticed, but the work will still be there three minutes from now. Just shut up and let me enjoy this amazing chorus,” she complains and instantly starts moving her shoulders and swaying timidly, amping up the drama of her lip-syncing. He has half a mind to call her out on it again because Bette Davis Eyes doesn’t seem like a very good reason to waste any more time, but Donna looks adamant about seizing this moment. 

Her energy is contagious; she makes air guitar strums for the signature riff, she purses her lips and she turns straight towards him and practically mouths the song _to_ him. She’s being ridiculous and theatrical and by now he has completely forgotten about the Movix trial, which he supposes was her goal all along.

“I can’t believe you like this stuff so much,” Harvey shakes his head at her in mock disapproval.

“Oh, come on, jazz is great but you can’t dance atrociously to it,” Donna argues, clearly unbothered by his distaste. “Or sing along really passionately,” she adds as an afterthought.

“No one should sing along to this,” he deadpans.

“ _Everyone_ should sing along really loudly, really terribly to this at least once in their lives,” she insists and there’s a dangerous spark in her eyes.

“No,” he replies instantly, dread overtaking him.

“Yes,” she nods emphatically, “Come on, you know the lyrics.”

Donna pokes his shoulder playfully as she begins to actually sing along to the chorus, relatively low at first. He’s heard Donna hum to herself while she works and he’s caught her muttering a few lines here and there, but he’s never heard her actually sing out loud. He doesn’t know why he’s a little surprised that she’s actually on-key and has a nice voice - she’s an actress, after all, surely she’s had singing lessons in college.

Still, it’s a bit of a surprise to have Donna sing to him, full of mannerisms and dramatics, in his office late at night. He grins, almost in spite of himself, and she takes it as incentive, raising the volume of her own voice until it matches the speaker. 

“Come on,” she pokes him again, harder this time, and he’s so taken by her in this moment, so delirious with exhaustion and bored by work, that he actually does begin to bob his head and mouth the words as well - and of course he knows the lyrics, who doesn’t.

“See? That didn’t hurt,” she teases him as they hear rhythmic claps in the background. Harvey just rolls his eyes.

And then suddenly Donna is clearing the couch, laying the files scattered between them carefully on the table as he watches in confusion. Once the couch is clear, she stands up and-

Donna steps on the couch, initially a little unsteady before she finds her footing, and tugs on his arm.

“Get up, it’s the last chorus,” she motions animatedly. He doesn’t know what possesses him, but he just follows her, stepping up as well as she steadies him by the elbows.

“ _And she’ll tease you_ ,” she fists her hand in front of her mouth as if she’s holding an invisible microphone, “ _She’ll unease you_.” She’s singing loudly now, the high pitches exaggerated, and she’s having so much fun in the middle of a tiring Tuesday night at the office and before he knows it he’s following, matching her key and her animation.

Harvey makes up a microphone of his own, singing about how she’s precocious and how she knows just what it takes to make a pro blush.

Donna sways her hips and claps along to the song and he doesn’t know what’s happening but he does know he’s never lived a moment like this one.

They take turns reciting the final lines to each other dramatically and finish the last ‘she’s got Bette Davis Eyes’ together, purposefully lengthening the final syllable until their breaths fail them.

A new song comes on but they don’t even notice it as they plop back down on the couch, chests heaving, slightly sweaty, matching grins.

“Now you can cross that off your bucket list,” she announces satisfiedly, not even looking at him as she leans over, grabs a folder and drops it unceremoniously on his lap. “Here’s your balance sheet.” Then she’s already reading another document as if nothing had happened.

His grin broadens as he takes another moment to watch her. _Man_ , he thinks, Donna really is something else.


End file.
